


bleed magic

by TheInherentDehumanizationofCelebrity



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Complicated BDSM Dynamics, Dom/sub, M/M, Murder, Strangers to Lovers, Strangulation, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28592910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInherentDehumanizationofCelebrity/pseuds/TheInherentDehumanizationofCelebrity
Summary: Alex Horne has a deal for Greg Davies.Greg Davies doesn't have much a choice.-Vampire AU
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	bleed magic

**Author's Note:**

> This work is heavily inspired by the series two flints, which you should go read, and the stories inspired by it. It's probably some of the best fic in this fandom, same with everything by the authors. 
> 
> Please do not send this to Alex Horne, Greg Davies, or anyone else involved with Taskmaster or its derivatives. If you are someone named in this story, unless you want to read about yourself as a vampire gallivanting around an American’s understanding of London, I suggest looking elsewhere. Please don’t make a song out of thing, it’s not a poem, and it’s really not that funny, just full of blood.

Greg Davies first meets Alex Horne the day he dies. 

There’s other things going on, of course; this is the third day Greg’s been on the tail of his latest target, and he’s pissed off and hungry and itching to either break a bottle over someone’s head or fling himself into the Thames out of sheer frustration. He is not an endurance hunter by nature, better suited to cracking skulls, but his employer wants the intimidation factor that comes from being stalked by a six foot eight man with Greg’s build, and he’s not in the position to say no. 

He thinks he’s finally wearing the target down--some rival henchman named Little Alex for the same reason all big guys are called Little--and cornered him an alley, when Greg finds himself with his nose pressed into the brickwork, his arm wrenched behind his back far enough that he feels like his shoulder is about to fall out. That’s more than terrifying. Greg doesn’t  _ get _ overpowered, he’s too fucking tall. 

“What,” Greg manages to grit out. “The fuck.”

“I expected you to give up yesterday,” Horne says. “On the rooftop.”

That had been deeply unpleasant. “I don’t give up,” he says, and tries to buck Horne off. That doesn’t work, and Greg finds himself genuinely afraid, and very slightly turned on. 

“Yeah,” Horne says. “I have a deal for you.”

“I’m not exactly in a place to argue,” Greg says. He tries to use his free hand, only to find it pinned against the wall. “You kill me if I say no?”

Horne laughs, softly. “Worse. I think you’ll like my terms.”

Greg tries to keep his breathing under control. “Okay,” he says. “Explain.”

That’s when his life falls apart. 

-

Greg wakes up, and he is fucking  _ freezing _ . He’s also something like hungover, though he knows for a fact that what he’s feeling is worse than dehydration. Being dead mostly feels like he’s been punched in the face, so far, and he knows, from what Alex explained after he let go of his arm, that’s not going to subside until he’s eaten somebody. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t something I can be polite about,” he groans, sitting up. He’s been laid down on a bed, over the covers, but at least he’s in new clothes. He would not want to wake up covered in his own blood and Alex’s spunk, especially not how much of it he remembers spilling and being spilled on him. 

Alex is perched at the end of the bed, managing to look much smaller than Greg knows he is by posture alone. “Sir,” he says, as though Greg’s in control of this situation whatsoever, “I have found food.”

He says this blandly, as though he were talking about literal food, and not--Greg checks--a blonde man tied up in the corner of a cheap hotel room. He’s not gagged, but he’s not talking either. “What’s up with him?” he asks, gesturing. 

“I’ve thralled him,” Alex says, in the same tone of voice. “I can let him loose, sir, if you would like.” 

More of a hunt that way, Greg thinks. “Do it,” he says, and stretches. He’s not used to how little pain he’s in, other than the headache, and chalks that up to sudden and inexplicable benefits of being dead. “After, you and I need to have a talk.”

-

Alex does something with his hands, and the man in the corner startles awake. “What the  _ fuck _ ,” he demands, which is fair. He is about to die, Greg thinks. It’s a good thing Alex chose someone with actual experience taking lives, instead of the closest tall man with a rough face, or else this might be the part where Greg has an existential crisis. Instead, he crosses the room in a couple of quick steps, and hauls the man to his feet by his shirt collar, the ropes snapping in half and bruising the man’s skin along the way. 

“What do you think’s going to happen to you?” Greg asks, calmly. He can feel Alex’s gaze on him. This is another test, even after all the business with the turning, and Greg doesn’t want to think about what happens if he fails. 

The man doesn’t say anything, stunned into silence by the fact that he’s currently being held at least a foot in the air. What Greg doesn’t know, what Alex tells him later, is that he’s been there since Alex dragged his blood-covered body in, so he’s just seen a man come back from the dead. 

“Answer me,” Greg says, adding a dark edge to his voice. “You don’t need to make this more difficult on yourself than it already is.” 

“I’m... going to die,” the man says. He sounds resigned. Greg smiles.

“Good boy,” he praises.” He drops him, and the man staggers. He’s at least a foot shorter than Greg, maybe more, and so it’s easy enough for him to pull him flush against his chest and tilt his head back. He doesn’t bother with the pulse point, instead ripping his throat out with his teeth. The human’s blood sprays like a busted pipe, and Greg takes a moment to appreciate that he apparently likes the taste of bitter copper now.

He doesn’t try to be clean, instead letting the man bleed out into his mouth. This is how Greg discovers he doesn’t need to breathe anymore, that he can just swallow and swallow until he’s clutching a limp corpse to his chest, head much clearer than it was moments before. 

“Thank you,” Greg says. He drops the body to the floor, letting it flop like a sad doll. He turns to Alex, who’s still perched on the bed. “How do you--?” he doesn’t finish  _ dispose of the body _ but it hovers between them. If nothing else, Greg is complicit now, and he’s fine with that. He feels better than he has in years. 

“Friendly necrophiles, sometimes, sir,” Alex says, and Greg can’t tell if he’s joking. “Or we leave him. I only take those who have family to mourn them.” He smiles. “So,” he says. “That talk?” There’s a cooling body, but it’s not relevant anymore, so Greg sits down on the chair by the bed and startles momentarily as he realizes that doesn’t hurt. He nods.

“What am I to you?” he asks. Before his turning, Alex had explained that he would be some sort of figurehead in the man’s decision to shake up the London supernatural scene in some dramatic way, but there hadn’t been anything else before he had teeth in his neck. “I can be big and scary, but I’m also not stupid. You can tell me what I need to know to play this role better.” He’s looking at Alex’s face, at the gap in his front teeth, and feels a surge of affection for this man he barely knows. He chalks that up to the vampirism. 

Alex is quiet for a long moment, his face almost completely blank. “I’m your assistant, sir,” he says, finally. “You’re stepping into a role I’ve already built, the face of an organization I don’t have the charisma to lead. You’re the Taskmaster. I’m... whatever you need me to be.”

Greg blinks. “Ah,” he says. “So, this is a sex thing.”

Alex makes a facial expression like he wants to blush but can’t anymore because he doesn’t have a normal circulatory system. “A little,” he says, finally. “You don’t--just because there’s an inherent--I--” 

Greg shuts him up by slamming him down on the bed, hand wrapped around his throat. “Can vampires bruise?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet. He’s a big guy, of course he’s had people ask him to throw them around a bit in bed, and the idea that Alex can and will take anything he dishes out is more than a little heady. 

He feels Alex swallow under his hand. “Only with a lot of pressure,” he says, finally. His eyes are huge, and he doesn’t close his mouth all the way when he’s finished speaking. “We don’t need to breathe.” He blinks slowly, looking almost drugged, and then seems to remember himself. “Sir.”

That information hits Greg’s brain like a firework, lighting up branches of new ideas he doesn’t have time for right now. He wants to squeeze the cool skin under his hand until it turns purple, but he does still have a few more questions. “Why can I do this to you?” He’s not entirely ignorant. He knows enough about vampires to know that you stay away from known ones, and he’s also pretty damn sure that they’re not supposed to be able to defy their makers. Holding his maker down on a bed by the neck feels pretty defiant. 

Alex smiles briefly, before the expression smooths away. “Because,” he says, carefully, around Greg’s fingers. “Because, this is what I want. I want to be your--” He bites his lip. “Your  _ pet _ .” He shudders, and Greg notices he’s clenched his hands into fists. “It will work better if they think you loathe me, that I’m just... a creature you use. Doing that to your maker... makes you powerful.” 

Greg nods. “It’s just a game, though, isn’t it? I only have as much power as you give me.” Even if he is on a leash, it’s long enough to wrap around Alex’s wrists and tug, if he feels like. 

“I’m giving you a lot of power, sir,” Alex says, and it’s the way he says it that makes Greg’s dick take notice.. 

Greg smiles. “Good to know.” He squeezes, finally, and only then does he feel Alex’s erection against his leg. Incredible. 


End file.
